One upper
by Shockey13
Summary: Alternate Universe where Debra Morgan and Carrie Mathison become friends at the bar. Because wouldn't they be perfect friends? And they don't really have any, and I want them to have friends. And they swear. A lot!


A/N: had this idea floating around for awhile after seeing the hilarious videos on youtube of both Deb and Carrie excessively swearing. Let me know what you think.

* * *

"Hey can I get some fucking service around here?" Deb shouts from the right end of the bar.

Carrie is at the other end of the bar also trying to get a drink.

"What can you not fucking see me here?" Carrie yells.

They're both slowly making their way towards the middle of the bar, seen as that's where most of the drinks were being served. Deb can now see that Carrie is doing the exact same thing as her.

"Unfucking believable, right?" Deb says to Carrie, as they're in the same position.

"I know what is this shit?" Carrie agrees.

"I mean if we can't get a drink here, then who fucking can?"

Deb points out.

"Hey, we will, watch", Carrie says.

There are a couple of meat heads nearby who were recently served two beers that they hadn't even touched, still ice cold. They are distracted by two presumably underage girls, and weren't even thinking about their drinks.

Carrie diligently surveys the area, and successfully manages to swipe the beverages with no one noticing. She proudly walks away with her prizes and hands one to Deb.

"Nice!" Deb cheers.

"You like beer?" She asks Deb.

"Hell yeah, thanks. It's like the only thing that I have in my fridge."

"It's like mine, but it's filled with wine and tequila. Do you happen to have a cigarette by chance?" Carrie asks.

"Yeah, of course, It's the least I can do for my beer hero."

They make their way out to the patio. There is an awkward silence, but Carrie attempts to make small talk.

"Thanks for the cigarette. So do you live around here?"

"Nope, from fucking Miami. It's such a shit hole. Here for a wedding. You?"

"Born and raised", Carrie says as she is taking a drag of her cigarette. Deb can now blatantly see the wedding ring on her left index finger.

"So you married, have kids?"

Deb asks in curiosity, trying to make conversation.

"Fuck no! I can hardly handle myself let alone anyone else. What made you think that?"

Deb points to her finger.

"Oh yeah, that. It weeds out the men."

"In what way?"

"The ones who want a relationship. So are you married?"

"Well, if you can be married to your job, then yeah I damn well am."

"I know exactly what you mean. I can't fucking stay away from it. Hey I don't know about you but I need another drink. You coming?"

"Fuck yes!"

This time at the bar, they get a drink right away, as the bartender could not miss them screaming at the same time.

"Hey there's finally a table", Deb screams. "Let's go!"

"So I didn't catch your name."

"Debra, but it's Deb. And yours?"

"Caroline, but everyone has called me Carrie since I was little. So what do you do Deb?"

"I'm a homicide detective in Miami. I hunt down some bad motherfuckers, shitbags, scum of the earth."

"And when you get buried in the case it's like you're obsessed? Nothing else seems important. You don't even want to sleep until you stop them?"

"Yeah, fucking spot on! Now I'm curious, what do you do?"

"Oh, uh, I actually kinda hunt people too. I work in the private sector", she stops not wanting to reveal anything more.

"Like a PI?"

"Kinda, but like international."

"Jesus you're a spy! I'm talking to a fucking real live spook."

"I never said that."

Deb narrows her eyes.

"Shit! Look, these stupid fucking douche bags are about to come over here", Deb says as the two men approach their table.

"Hey ladies. You're looking lonely over here. Do you want to dance?"

He asks.

"Does it look like I want to fucking dance. No, because if I did then I would already be fucking dancing!"

Deb snaps.

"Whoa honey, calm down! You don't have to be such a fucking bitch about it!"

"Excuse me asshole!?"

Carrie quickly joins in.

"I said she doesn't have to be such a fucking bitch!"

"And you don't have to be such a piece of shit! Her dog died today", Carrie lies, trying to get them to go away. She then flashes the ring.

"Sorry. We didn't know!"

The man says holding his palms up.

"No, you fucking didn't!"

Carrie and Deb pound down the rest of their drinks, as the guys walk away.

"Damn you're fucking good at that! God sometimes I just hate men!" Deb says.

They both sigh.

"You know I slept with one of my suspects once", Carrie reveals.

"Yeah? Was he guilty?" Deb says interested.

"No, but I thought for sure he was!"

"I got something for you, I was engaged once."

"Well that doesn't sound too bad, I guess."

"To a fucking serial killer!"

"Holy shit, were you hunting him!?"

Carrie is now actually stunned.

"Yeah until he fucking tried to kill me! Piece of shit killed himself before we could arrest him."

"Talk about a one upper. And I thought I had bad luck with men. Need another drink?"

"Yup."


End file.
